Write drunk, edit sober? More like write drunk, throw everything in the trash the next day. This is the kind of insane trite I write when I'm shitfaced. It's always some sort of nonsensical erotic fiction. Worst part is I blackout and don't ever remember writing it, so I'm not sure if I do it as a joke or if I'm an actual retard.

I took a mild psychedelic and tried writing. I thought, well, it should be original if nothing else. Instead, I reasoned quite frankly why women and all civilization (women are responsible for forcing men to make civilization, obviously) are the fucking devil. Thanks, Timothy Leary! You opened my mind.

Yeah, i couldn't write when i'm fucked up either. At best I could only think of ideas and jot them down.

The fucked up thing is every now and then i'd think up a brilliant idea, so then i'd think it's a great idea to get drunk and think up ideas, completely ignoring that 99.9% I think up when i'm drunk is garbage.

Also, i suspect i would have thought up the brilliant ideas anyway, being drunk had nothing to do with it.

Maybe it's because those writers could handle their alcohol because they drank all day, every day mate. At least when they were attending siestas. When I used to drink a ton I would often write essays drunk and it's not quite the same of course but my essays always managed to be structured properly and generally fairly good. The whole writing while drunk thing only works if you're an alcoholic who is numbed to the effects of alcohol. Just getting trashed isn't going to help you

>be 21yo virgin>meet a girl at uni>she acts tsundere>text and facebook message her non-stop, pretty much harass her into dating me>after weeks of this I finally break her will and she accepts>go on a date>we hit it off>finally have a qt3.14 girlfriendfast forward a couple weeks>first time having sex>her pussy is farting non stop>she tries to act like it's normal and just ignores the situation>I go out of my way to tell her it's no big deal>tell her I enjoy her body and that pussyfarts are natural>tell her her body is a wonderland>the pussyfarts keep on coming>I feel a little awkward so I try to put her at ease by breathing in the pussy air>every time a pussyfart comes, I pull out and sensually smell around her pussy area>deep breaths>this goes on for 5-6 pussyfarts>each time, say something like "your body is a wonderland", compliment her, say I love her scent, etc.>on the 6th or 7th time, she stops me and gets up like she's mad>puts her clothes back on, says this isn't gonna work>leaves>hasn't responded to any of my texts or FB messages even though I've left her hundreds

>>5713424It has always seemed to me that how you are drunk socially will be how you are drunk in writing. People who drink and do stupid shit will drink and write stupid shit. People who drink and have the same conversations will do the same.

"Write drunk, edit sober" isn't literal advice though. It means you should write when having the most powerful feelings, and want to express yourself without any inhibition. Then, when you're in a more rational state, re-read to see what was in your emotional mind.

The best stuff you will EVER write will be written from pure emotion. I've written tons of "good" essays from my rational mind. I can pump them out a dime a dozen. The only essay I've ever written that a professor took the time to seriously commend, above and beyond anything I've ever heard, I almost didn't turn in because it was written very emotionally and I felt very embarrassed that I was turning it in because it was "too revealing" about my inner self.

At that point, I realized what it was about. People like the humanity of writing. If your writing is inhuman robotic horse shit, no matter how fancy the prose or intellectual the content, no one will care.

Maybe don't get completely shit faced. I find that sometimes being little drunk helps to get some ideas(so that i'm more easy going but still functional). Although usually I only want to write a general ideas or short stuff in those moments.Also often when I'm hangover I feel creative because I still have some alcohol in me

>He whisked off her shoes and panties in one movement, wild like an enraged shark, his bulky totem beating a seductive rhythm. Mary's body felt like it was burning, even though the room was properly air conditioned. They tried all the positions: on top, doggy, and normal. Exhausted, they collapsed onto the recently extended sofa bed. Then a hellbeast ate them.

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